Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (40 page)

Mychael’s
hand was firm against the small of my back; the other enfolded one of my hands.
He drew me close and attempted to steer me in the direction he wanted to go.

“Raine?”
he said softly.

I
looked up at him. “Yes?”

“Some
people find dancing enjoyable.”

I
couldn’t help but smile. “I’m dancing backward, in a gown and shoes that aren’t
mine, in a room full of goblin nobles. This is as relaxed as I’m going to get.”

He
smiled back. “Then I’ll simply have to make do.”

After
our first circuit of the dance floor, Mychael began humming softly along with
the music. It was more of a counter-melody, in a slightly different key, and
less discordant. I found myself relaxing a little.

I
knew what he was doing, and he did it well. Having been taught by Garadin, I
knew that music makes a magic all its own. The goblin king would only have the
best musicians performing for him. Their talent was apparent as their music’s
magic swirled with and in the air around the dancers.

Mychael
was using the musicians to conceal a little musical magic of his own. It was
similar enough to the tune being played to blend, yet different enough to do
what he wanted—namely locating other mages in the room. I’m sure there were
more than enough of them, but Mychael was looking for Khrynsani shamans. But
there was only one Khrynsani whose location I wanted to know, and he was more
than capable of hiding himself until he wanted to be found.

The
song ended, and the dancers and those who were simply enjoying the music
applauded politely. I wasn’t thrilled with where we ended up when the music
stopped. The royal dais and the goblin king’s throne were only about ten steps
to our right.

I
also wasn’t thrilled with the scrutiny I suddenly found myself on the receiving
end of. I thought I recognized the interested parties. Unfortunately, the same
thought had occurred to them. They were goblins. They were black-garbed
Mal’Salin courtiers. Prince Chigaru Mal’Salin’s courtiers. So much for whether
the prince was going to crash his brother’s party. One whispered to the other,
and the pair started toward us. I don’t think they had recognized me yet, but
they wanted to get a closer look.

I
turned toward Mychael. “Company,” I said in a warning singsong tone.

“I
see them.” He took matters into his own hands—and me along with it.

Mychael
gathered me to him in a kiss passionate enough to make me forget the goblins,
forget the guests, and drop my fan. When I opened my eyes, I discovered it also
had the equally desirable effect of making the goblins doubt they recognized
me. A win-win for everyone. Anyone and everyone else who noticed were smiling
indulgently at the love struck newlyweds.

I was
a little short of breath. My corset wasn’t helping matters any. No wonder
fainting couches were so popular with the upper classes. I absently wondered if
one was nearby. Mychael gently cradled my face in his hands. His eyes were darker
than I remember them being. I opened my mouth to at least attempt a protest.

“A
valid tactical maneuver,” his lips moved against mine.

“So
that’s what Guardians call it,” I whispered breathlessly.

I
felt him smile. “To deflect attention of one kind, attract attention of
another.”

“Works
for me.” Even better, it worked for Chigaru’s courtiers. Apparently
interrupting an intimate newlywed moment was in bad taste even for a Mal’Salin.
One of them even bent to retrieve my fan for me before he scurried away in
embarrassment. Mychael didn’t release me; he just readjusted his hold. I liked
the way he readjusted. I told myself he was just staying in character, and it
was simply another valid tactical maneuver. I told myself that, but I didn’t
really believe it—and I didn’t mind that I didn’t believe.

There
was movement on the gallery above as trumpeters stood in a flash of scarlet and
black and blew a fanfare.

Mychael
sensed what I wanted to do and anchored me to the spot, his arm firmly around
my waist, his hand gripping mine. We must have looked quite the loving couple.
But I knew he was right. Running would be suicidal. But that didn’t stop every
muscle in my body from wanting to do it. Especially when I saw King Sathrik
Mal’Salin and the solitary black-robed figure that entered immediately behind
him. Who would have thought Sarad Nukpana was the party type? The goblin king
was unmasked and dressed in black and silver formal-dress armor. It was his
party, so he could wear what he wanted.

Mychael
pulled me even closer. “Be still and clear your mind.” His voice was a bare
whisper against my ear. “You’re the Countess of Eilde, just home from your
honeymoon. You’re deliriously happy and honored to be here.”

Delirious
I could do, happy I was not.

Still,
I took a breath and let it out slowly, willing myself to relax.

Mychael
gave my waist a quick squeeze. “Happy, darling?”

“I’m
getting there,” I said from between clenched teeth.

“Good.”

The
goblin king and the Khrynsani grand shaman passed close enough to touch, though
that was the last thing on my mind. I held my breath as they passed, and I was
sure I wasn’t alone. Something was wrong. Not really wrong, but different.
Sathrik turned and seated himself on his throne, and the robed figure turned to
stand at his left hand. I saw a shadow of a masked face beneath the cowled
hood.

It
wasn’t Sarad Nukpana. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.

I
started breathing again.

“It’s
not him,” I said softly.

Mychael
squeezed my hand to let me know he heard.

The
goblin king began to address his guests, but I didn’t hear the words. Why would
Sarad Nukpana send an impostor to stand at the king’s side?

I
knew the answer as soon as the question asked itself. He had more important
things to do, a full evening planned. A stone of power to secure, a mage to
torture. I shivered as the tension I’d just released was replaced by fresh
fear. Tarsilia. She had to be close. What was happening to her?

There
was applause as Sathrik concluded his greeting, and the guests began taking the
floor for the next dance.

“Are
you unwell, darling?” Mychael asked, as only a solicitous new husband could.
“You’re looking pale. Perhaps something to drink and some fresh air.”

I
nodded tensely.

We
made our way to the bar nearest the garden doors. Garadin, Piaras, and the two
Guardians were already outside. A tall, elegant goblin was moving toward
us—moving just like the big, dangerous cat he was.

Tam.

His
chosen garb for the evening was a dark goblin mirror of Mychael’s own attire.
The goblin primaru was every inch the Mal’Salin duke he used to be in a surcoat
of midnight blue suede, with a mix of tooled gray leather and burnished steel
armor beneath. Unlike most of the “knights” I’d seen on the dance floor, Tam’s
armor was authentic. I had a feeling he had something other than dancing
planned for this evening.

“You
encountered no difficulty gaining admittance?” Tam asked us once he was close
enough to speak without being overheard.

“Just
the expected,” Mychael replied.

I
didn’t mention that I had expected worse—and I certainly hadn’t expected Tam.

Tam
looked down at me, or more to the point, at my bodice. “Nice dress.”

“Thanks.”

“Very
flattering,” he murmured.

“I
didn’t choose it.”

“Who
did?”

I
tilted my head toward Mychael. “He did.”

Tam
glanced at Mychael. “You did?”

“I
did.”

Neither
of them showed any emotion, but the tension in the air went up a notch.
Wonderful. Just what I didn’t need.

“I
didn’t expect to see you here,” I told Tam. “The company not to your liking and
all that.”

“I’ve
asked if he would assist us this evening,” Mychael explained.

“How?”

Tam
leaned in close to me. “To rescue fair lady from foul fiend,” he said, his
voice low and for my ears only.

Tarsilia.
I breathed a little sigh of relief, then smiled at the irony.

“What?”
Tam asked.

“She
doesn’t like you, you know.” The “because of me” part I left unsaid.

Tam
grinned. “I know.”

“Trying
to earn some points?”

“Couldn’t
hurt. And best of all, it would annoy the foul fiend.” He winked. “I take my
fun when and where I can find it.”

That
was Tam.

He
took my hand and gallantly raised it to his lips, though the lips-to-hand
contact lingered for far longer than was gallant. “Now if you will excuse me,
the other fair lady awaits.”

“Good
luck,” I whispered. “And thank you.”

“Luck
to you, too.” He glanced at Mychael, and an unspoken something passed between
them. Tam looked back to me, his expression solemn. “But you won’t need luck,
you have your own brave knight.”

Then
he crossed the crowded dance floor and was gone.

I
suddenly felt woozy again. “I could really use that drink.”

“As
my fair lady commands.”

I sat
in one of the chairs arranged around a column while Mychael went to get drinks
for us both.

“My
brother’s taste in music is sadly lacking,” came a voice so close to my ear I
could feel his breath.

Prince
Chigaru Mal’Salin’s breath.

I
stood, and he caught my arm in an iron grip.

“I
thought Rahimat would be a welcome addition to this evening’s festivities,” he
continued calmly as if we were friends having a chat.

Then
Mychael was there.

“Come
no closer, Paladin Eiliesor,” the goblin prince said softly for Mychael’s
benefit and smiled fully for anyone who witnessed the exchange.

I
felt a blade press against my ribs.

“I
only require the beacon. Mistress Benares is no longer necessary.”

The
goblin prince and I shared a dilemma.

We
were in a room full of guards loyal to Sathrik Mal’Salin and neither one of us
wanted to draw attention to ourselves. His grip on me, while tight, was such
that it wasn’t visible to anyone. I could have twisted free, but that would
draw attention. And if he tried to stab me, I was definitely going to draw
attention. Mychael was ready to attack if the prince so much as breathed wrong.

So
there we were—all of us wanting to move, but none of us daring to. At least not
yet.

Strangely
enough, I was as relaxed as I had been all evening. Maybe it was that I’d been
in a similar situation with the goblin prince before and I’d come out of that still
breathing. Maybe it was the relief of something happening that didn’t involve
Sarad Nukpana. I didn’t know. Whatever it was, the tension drained from my
body. Prince Chigaru sensed the change and pressed the blade tighter to my
side. That really didn’t bother me either. With all the whale boning in my
bodice and corset, he’d have had an easier job getting through plate armor. I
even felt a little smile coming on.

“So,
do you have a plan?” I asked him. I sounded almost cheerful.

My
question and attitude took him by surprise.

“You
will give me the beacon,” he demanded.

There
were definite advantages to having an absurdly tight bodice—and a beacon that
refused to leave. I looked down just to make sure. Nope, nothing was coming up
through that cleavage.

I almost
laughed. “I’m afraid that’s not physically possible.”

His
grip tightened. He had to have expected my response, but it didn’t make him any
happier to hear it.

He
looked down to where the diamond chain vanished between my breasts. I didn’t
like that look one bit. Mychael didn’t either. He took two steps toward us.

The
goblin prince pulled me back against him. “No closer.”

Mychael
stopped. His eyes flicked to something just past my left shoulder. I was
betting I’d only need one guess—Prince Chigaru’s friends wanted to keep him
company. Vegard was keeping me company, too—from a discreet distance. He stayed
put, for now. Too much of a crowd would draw attention we did not want.

“You
are wearing the beacon,” Chigaru said. “You will remove it. Now.”

“We’ve
been over this before, Your Highness. I take the beacon off, I die.”

He
pressed the dagger harder against my bodice. “The same is true if you refuse.”

He
had me there.

“A
lady dying in your arms isn’t the kind of attention you want to attract,”
Mychael said, his voice soft and low.

Magic
spun into the air at the sound of his voice. He risked detection, but with a
dagger against my ribs, so did I. I wasn’t going to die quietly. Mychael’s
casting was for the prince’s ears only, but that didn’t stop goosebumps from
prickling at the back of my neck—though that could have been as much from the
goblin’s warm breath and the proximity of his fangs to my throat, as from
Mychael’s voice.